Broadway
by 24QueenMo
Summary: See the young man sitting in the old man's bar, waiting for his turn to die. Song-fic based off the song Broadway. One-shot.


**Here's another one-shot. So in honor of the _Goo Goo Dolls_ coming out with a new album soon (it's been long enough wait) I'm made a one-shot with one of my favorite songs by them. So, yeah. Side note: This is not going to have a happy ending. So if you're looking for fluff, look somewhere else. If you're looking for something sad and something that will maybe make you cry, you came to the right place.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**_Broadway_ by 24QueenMo**

_Broadway's dark tonight  
A little bit weaker than you used to be  
Broadway's dark tonight  
See the young man sittin' in the old man's bar  
Waitin' for his turn to die_

You sit there, thinking about what went wrong. Everything went wrong. Your career went wrong. Your choices went wrong. And you ask yourself, _Why the hell am I at this bar?_ You're young. You're handsome. You're rich. You're everything that the men sitting next to you aren't. Well, maybe you are the same as them. You made some bad choices—a lot of bad choices.

_The cowboy kills the rock star  
And Friday night's gone too far  
The dim light hides the years  
On all the faded girls_

You look around the bar that you're at. It looks the same as usual. A bar fight happened, you suppose. There are the tell-tale signs of blood on the floor. The posters of old actress hang on the walls, fading. It's a shabby place. It's filled with mostly old men, telling old stories of when they were young. You don't feel left out. You rather be left alone. It's easier that way. You don't want to drag others into the pain you feel.

_Forgotten but not gone  
You drink it off your mind  
You talk about the world like it's someplace that you've been_

You're a forgotten actor, but you're still here. It's like you're an actor on that TMZ website '_Member Them?_ You drink away the pain of everything you've been through. You rarely talk. But when you do, you make it sound like you're smart and know things. When you're a total fool.

_You see, you'd love to run home, but you know you ain't got one  
Cuz you're livin' in a world that you're best forgotten, around here_

The bartender breaks your thoughts, when he asks, "What are you doing here? You've been here since morning. Don't you have somewhere to go?"

You look at him for a moment and say, "I don't have a home."

"Homeless?"

"No. You know how they say, 'Home is where the heart is'? Well, I don't know where my heart is. It probably died along with my girlfriend."

"So, let me get this straight, you had a girlfriend and she died?"

"Yes . . .," you whisper hoarsely.

"And now you come here, trying to forget everything?"

"Yeah . . ."

"I think you need closure."

You nod your head slowly. "I think I'll try that," you say, and then you leave.

_Broadway's dark tonight  
A little bit weaker than you used to be  
Broadway's dark tonight  
See the young man sittin' in the old man's bar  
Waitin' for his turn to die_

It's dark when you walk outside. It's rainy, too. You see a young man walk in. He looks like the weight of the world is on him. You want to say something but you don't. You're starting to feel better, but you still have that feeling of emptiness. Like something's missing in your heart. Something's been missing since she died.

_You choke down all your anger  
Forget your only son  
You pray to statues when you sober up for fun  
Your anger don't impress me  
The world slapped in your face  
It always rains like hell on the loser's day parade_

You haven't drunk in a week. You've been trying to control your temper. You need closure. It's something you needed for a long time. You've gone to church every Sunday for the past month. It's hard staying sober when you drank so much before. You have to make it up to him—your son. The only son you ever had. You start to realize that it's not his fault his mother died. It's more yours then any. You just need to tell him that.

* * *

You stand out on the snowy doorsteps of your mother- and father-in-law's house in Wisconsin. It's a big house. It seems the same from the last time you saw it. You sigh and ring the doorbell. You see Connie Munroe answer it. She looks older then you last saw her.

"Chad?" she asks, opening the door slowly.

"Yeah," you mumble.

"Um, what are you doing here?"

You hesitate. "I . . . I need closure."

"It's been over fourteen years."

"I know that."

"Bryan has grown up. He doesn't even know you. He only knows you from pictures and stories . . . from the few pleasant ones I have to tell."

"Who is Bryan?"

"Your son."

"His name was Miles last time I checked."

"Yeah, and the last time you checked was _fourteen_ years ago."

"Okay, I get it. It's been a long time."

"You think?"

"Can I come in?"

She rolls her eyes and lets you in. You look around the house. It's messier then last time. Instead of all the things Sonny owned, it looks like a boy has taken over the house.

"Where is he?" you ask. "Bryan, I mean."

"He should be coming home from hockey practices," Connie answers.

"He plays hockey?" You look at pictures of your son. You see some of Sonny, too. It pains you to look at her.

"Yeah, since he was six."

"Oh . . ." You feel empty. He is a handsome boy from the pictures.

"He's not going to recognize you," Connie points out.

"What do you mean?"

"Chad, have you looked in a mirror?"

"Yes."

"Then look at yourself and then at a pictures from your glory-days and you'll see that you're not the same boy—I mean, man."

You grumble and walk into the bathroom to get a good look at yourself. And then you know what she meant. You look horrible. There are wrinkles that cover your face. Your hair is gray and thin already (you're thirty-three-years-old!). Connie is right. You're not the same boy anymore. You walk out slowly. Then you make it to the living room. You wait until you hear someone come in. You can see Mr. Munroe standing there. He looks older. You were never on good terms with him. And then you see Bryan. He has a lanky build, short brown hair, blue eye, and he's smiling. He has Sonny's smile. It makes you sick inside. You left this handsome boy. You left him with his grandparents because you were too immature to handle a child.

"Hi, boys," says Connie sweetly, kissing her husband. Bryan rolls his eyes and walks to the refrigerator to get a _Gatorade_.

"Bryan, didn't you already have one of those?" says Connie.

"Two, actually," says Bryan, taking a big sip.

"That's enough."

"Well, that's what you always say and let me have it."

You laugh quietly. He seems like a smart-mouth.

"Hey, Mom, can you make me chicken fries?" he asks. You look at the clock on the TV. It says quarter to eleven. The kid eats that late? And he's calling Connie "Mom"? What the hell? Yes, you gave full custody to Connie and John Munroe, but this was just . . . just strange.

"No," says Connie. "I think you should go to the living room. Someone is here to see you."

"Who . . .," says Bryan, walking towards you. You give a weak smile. "Who are you?" he asks you.

"I'm . . . I'm your father—your biological father," you say.

He starts to shake his head. "How dare you. How are you! You—you . . ." He stutters for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "I can't believe you. You suddenly think you can just show up and it will be 'Happy Family' again?"

You can't believe this. This isn't exactly how you expected it. "No, I didn't."

"Then why are you here? What do you want from me? You hated me. That's why you left me. You hated what I did to Mom."

You hesitate. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you for your mother's death . . ." You pause to think. "It's my fault she died. I just wanted to blame someone else."

"Yeah, and you chose me."

You're angry. "I was stupid and immature. I wasn't ready to raise a child. I was practically a kid myself."

"Oh, stop the crap. You weren't a kid. You were an adult. You knew exactly what you were doing. And this fake—fake anger. You were an actor, so this is all a fake. You're not really sorry. Get out. Get out of my life. Get out of my family's life. Get out of this world. You're just a joke." By the time Bryan's done, he's panting.

"Okay" is all you say and walk out. You look back one last time. You didn't get the closure you needed. You never think you will. Bryan brought up all good points. Seems like a smart kid. And too bad you didn't get to know him.

_You see, you'd love to run home, but you know you ain't got one  
Cuz you're livin' in a world that you're best forgotten  
When you're thinkin' you're a joke and nobody's gonna listen  
To the one small point I know they've been missing around here_

Bryan was right. You are a joke—a pathetic excuse for a person. You had everything. You had everything and you threw it away. Everything you worked for . . . gone. Everything. It all disappeared. It slipped through your fingers. You miss Sonny. You killed her . . . .

_Broadway's dark tonight  
A little bit weaker than you used to be  
Broadway's dark tonight  
See the young man sittin' in the old man's bar  
Waitin' for his turn to die_

_This wasn't supposed to happen_, you thought. She wasn't supposed to have a stroke after giving birth. Sonny wasn't supposed to be half dead (or half alive if you're a positive person). She was supposed to be caring for the baby. This wasn't supposed to happen. A lot of things shouldn't have happened. And this was one of them.

You sat there, holding her hands. You here the all-to familiar beeps of the heart monitor, but then they stop. Instead, it's replaced with one long beep. You knew what happened. Her heart stopped.

"Oh, my God!" you screamed. "Oh, my God! Somebody help her!" You were in tears by now. The doctors and nurses come rushing in; trying to shock her back to life has you watch from outside the door. But they stop after a bunch of tries and walk out.

"She's gone," whispered a doctor to you.

"No kidding she's gone. Can't you do something?" you said, your voice rising slightly.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but no. We can't. There's nothing left to do. We'll call the family." The doctor left you alone. You walked back in and took the seat next to Sonny's body.

"I'm so sorry, Sonny," you said, brushing the hair from her face. "This is my entire fault. I did this to you. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I love you and I'll always will." You kissed her hand and walked out, leaving behind the best thing that happened to your life.

_You see, you'd love to run home, but you know you ain't got one  
Cuz you're livin' in a world that you're best forgotten  
When you're thinkin' you're a joke and nobody's gonna listen  
To the one small point I know they've been missing around here  
Round here, yeah_

_Broadway's dark tonight  
A little bit weaker than you used to be  
Broadway's dark tonight  
See the young man sittin' in the old man's bar  
Waitin' for his turn to die_

_Broadway_ by the _Goo Goo Dolls_

**The End**

**So how was it? That is my first time doing a story in second person so give me a break if it sucks. Anyway, review! (But no flames please!)**


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